


Smoke & Mirrors

by darlingdearestdead



Series: Nights at Pop's [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Jughead Jones is eternally confused about Betty, Unresolved Romantic Tension, mutually comforting each other, so much trust and niceness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdearestdead/pseuds/darlingdearestdead
Summary: “There are less stupid ways to prove you’re brooding Jughead.”“Are there?” He asked. “Do you have a list?”Betty catches Jughead smoking, but everything is not as it first appears. Set between 1.02 and 1.03.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I said I might do a series of one shots so here we go! This was just a small something that came to me, I imagine it happens around/ between the second and third episodes. Hope you enjoy! And no one proof reads these so I'm sorry about any mistakes.

Sometimes Jughead wondered whether his family had chosen Riverdale to rest their heads solely because someone up there knew he was coming. If Jughead had tried to write a small town for his noir novel, beset with secrets and mystery, he couldn’t have hit on a better place than where he lived. He liked to watch, on occasion, from the outside just to cement his own feelings of otherness. The neon of Pop’s, the slight drizzle of rain, the smell of garbage emanating from the dumpster next to him, he wanted to make sure he had it all covered. He wanted people to open his book and be there, with him, alone in the corner of the scene.

He was so caught up in his vision, and thoughts of the past, that he almost didn’t notice the blond girl approaching. She was staring pointedly at the lit cigarette smouldering in his fingers, the one he’d almost forgotten he had.

Betty came to a halt just in front of him, blinking her large, green eyes at him.

 “There are less stupid ways to prove you’re brooding Jughead.”

“Are there?” He asked. “Do you have a list?”

She sighed, rolling her neck, and then without saying a word she plucked it from his fingers, dropped it on the floor, and crushed it beneath the sole of her sneakers. It was a swift movement and one that left Jughead feeling distinctly impressed. But there was something else, something about the way she was looking at him, that left him feeling a little sick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, he just found himself staring at her as she walked away.

{}

The next day thoughts of finding Betty, explaining it to her, consumed him in a way nothing else had. He was not someone who cared much about what most people thought of him, if he did he’d have been destroyed a long time ago, but he cared how his friends saw him. And, for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, he cared in particular about what Betty thought.

But he couldn’t seem to find the right time in school. It wasn’t like Betty was avoiding him, she just wasn’t particularly seeking him out either, and Jughead’s natural inclination towards isolation meant he wasn’t chasing her down either. The one time he caught her eye, as she crossed the corridors with Veronica and Kevin, her smile had caused him to avert his eyes, with something like shame burning the back of his neck.

The evening brought him back to Pop’s, this time firmly ensconced with a booth, but the words weren’t flowing out of him the way he wanted them to. This was the reason he didn’t like many people, he thought to himself, they always just proved too much of a distraction. Having friends always pulled him out of his narrative and back into himself too much for his liking.

When Archie arrived, burger in hand, it didn’t take much persuasion for him to succumb to the pressures of socialisation, not when his mind was too far from his work. And then, he flooded with a mixture of fear and relief as he watched the door swing open to reveal Betty and Veronica. He played it off well, sarcastic facades were his speciality, and slumped into the corner of the booth to make room for Betty to seat herself next to him.

It felt like a victory of some kind, the fact that she’d chosen to sit next to him and not Archie, but the moment he thought it, he felt embarrassed. That wasn’t true, she was possibly avoiding the redhead due to some romantic drama, or she just didn’t read much significance into seating arrangements. Jughead didn’t normally read much significance into seating arrangements, especially when they concerned him, and he was loathe to begin now. But all the same, he liked that when she shifted next to him, the scent of whatever laundry detergent she used wafted over.

Still, the time did not feel right. Not in the bright lights of Pop’s, with Veronica eyeing them suspiciously, and Archie giving them the rundown of his latest cliché teen drama (sometimes it felt like Archie had forgotten there was a murderer running around), he couldn’t broach something that was feeling more and more insignificant as time passed. And Betty herself seemed distracted, wide eyes staring into some unknown spot in the distance.

The night was running on, getting later and later, and with it Jughead’s sense of ridiculousness and panic built. He wanted to talk to Betty, he wanted to make things clear, even though he would’ve laughed at anyone else if they’d been working themselves up in the way that he had.

“I should get going.” Archie said after a while. “I’ve got a few things to tweak before my songs are really perfect, you know?”

“Of course Archiekins.” Veronica mocked, shooting Betty an exasperated look as she slipped her purse off the counter and onto her shoulder. “I’ll head home too, homework always awaits.”

The four teenagers slipped out their booth and headed for the exit.

“Walk you home Betty?” Archie said, as they emerged from Pop’s into the frigid evening air.

She looked a little embarrassed, averting her eyes and stepping back. “Actually, Arch you probably shouldn’t. I’m on damage control. If I can avoid an argument, I’d like to.”

“Oh.” He furrowed his brow.

“Just take a few minutes head start and she might not notice that we were together.” Betty shrugged.

“Okay.” Archie replied, looking both confused and upset, before he headed onto the streets.

“My mom just finished her shift so I could take you?” Veronica offered.

“A Lodge?” Betty asked, in a tone that indicate how ridiculous she found the whole thing.

“Ah.” Veronica said, rolling her eyes. “I forgot I’m persona non grata too.”

“I’ll walk her home.” Jughead found himself saying.

Betty shot him a surprised look, and then frowned. “You know I don’t actually _need_ a babysitter.”

“But what happens if there’s a big scary bad guy hiding around the corner?” He asked, dryly.

“She’d probably kick him in the balls.” Veronica offered.

“I know that.” Jughead said, a gleam in his eye. “I just want to be there to watch it happen.”

“You’re both ridiculous.” Betty protested, but her lips were turning up in a smile despite it.

Veronica’s phone dinged, and she tightened the cape around her shoulders, holding up her phone in a gesture of goodbye. “That’s Mom, I’ll see you both in school?”

“Bye V.” Betty waved, and Jughead gave his own quick version. 

And then the dark haired girl disappeared, leaving her two friends alone in the darkening night.

It was strange, how instantaneous his heart race sped the moment they were alone. If he had been more scientifically minded, it would’ve made for an interesting experiment, but his mind was equipped from writing, so all he could think of was the words he needed to use to describe the way the streetlights lit her hair up gold from the inside out.

“I actually wanted to talk to you.” He said, when they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“About what?” Betty asked, pausing to look up at him and scrutinise his face.

“I don’t actually smoke.” He said, all in a rush.

She paused, and then an expression of bemused confusion, mixed with a heavy dose of scepticism, came over her face. “You just like the way the smoke looks?”

“No.” He looked almost offended, and Betty couldn’t help but laugh just a little. “I’m pretentious, but I’m not _that_ pretentious.” He paused, voice suddenly low and serious again. “I’ve smoked maybe two or three times in my life. It just- the smell reminds me of my dad, when I was a kid. Actually, I stole the packet I have from him four years ago. They’re probably off. Can cigarettes go off?”

He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were firmly focused on the toes of his shoes, the tips of which he was using to kick at the road awkwardly. These were thoughts her didn’t voice, not to Archie not to anyone, and he didn’t know why he thought it was so important she know. It probably had something to do with the look on her face when she’d seen him the night before, the brief flash of disappointment that had crossed her features. He realised when he’s seen it on her, that it had been a long time since he’d disappointed anyone, mainly becomes people had given up having any expectations of him.

Betty Cooper was not the type of girl who gave up.

But he didn’t want to see her look at him with pity, which was what he really feared, yet when he finally chanced a glance that wasn’t what he saw.

“Juggy.” She said. “I get it. That makes a lot of sense.” She took a deep breathe, wrapping her arms around herself, her shoulders slightly hunched. “I’ve been spraying myself with a bottle of Polly’s perfume that I stole. I hid it- because mom would go crazy if she knew – but every so often I get it out”

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, just a light touch, but she could feel the warmth of his palm through her sweater. “I get it.” He echoed her own words back to him, relieved that she would know it was true.

She looked upwards, as if willing herself not to cry, and then she shrugged politely out of his touch. “I’m glad you don’t smoke though. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m a tortured writer. I’m meant to be chain smoking and chugging black coffees.”

If he had been Archie, she might’ve given him a playful poke in the stomach to tease him, but as much as she felt the urge she couldn’t. She didn’t really touch Jughead, not often, no one really did, and instead she had to settle for scoffing. “Please, you are much more a milkshake and hamburgers guy.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” He leant down conspiratorially. “It’s a secret.

“Jughead, I once heard you tell Archie you ate a hamburger so good, it made you cry.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a well-kept secret.”

She couldn’t help but really laugh then, and was relieved to see the smirk that graced the features of her friend. “Come on.” She said. “Get me home.”

“Bossy.” He retorted, knocking his shoulder gently against hers as they began to walk again.

It wasn’t much, a few minutes of one uneventful evening, but it felt like everything to the both of them. It was that night that the fact was truly cemented in their minds, the fact that they would tell each other things that they couldn’t anyone else, that there was no one they trusted more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you think, any comment makes my day.


End file.
